One Of Us
by ravenbard
Summary: Pam wakes to a harsh reality of her own making.


**TITLE: **One of Us

**RATING:** Uh, T? I think. For serious, serious angst and a brief, fleeting mention of nudity.

**PAIRING: **Pam/Tara

**SYNOPSIS:** Pam wakes to the harsh reality of her own making.

**DISCLAIMER:** True Blood and its characters do not belong to me and yadda, yadda, yadda.

**A/N**: I'm feely angst-y. Figured I should let it out somewhere lest it transfers onto the next, upcoming chapter of Beautiful Stranger. Song is _One of Us_ by ABBA. I know the band is more known for its happy, upbeat tunes but they've got some really gut-wrenching ones too (The Winner Takes It All anyone?). This is one of them. Good luck with the reading.

P.S. – I tweaked the lyrics a bit towards the end but I dare ya to listen to the song while reading this.

* * *

Dusk stole across the darkening sky, elegant, elongated fingers of indigo, midnight and ultramarine reaching over the horizon to capture the remaining, fading banners of furious, blushing red and burnished gold.

Colors of dawn.

Pam shifted on her expansive, sprawling bed, the seductive rasp of expensive silk sheets against her naked skin crooning to an empty room as the pull of Sleep slowly lost its hold on her, its talons on her subconscious relenting, allowing her to wake.

A tear immediately slipped down her cheek as she blinked open eyes the color of crushed sapphires.

_They passed me by, all of those great romances_

A second tear fell as she was once more confronted with her harsh reality, a glistening, organic jewel of a dark crimson hue that was stark and bold against her pale, flawless alabaster skin.

_You were, I felt, robbing me of my rightful chances_

Pam sat up slowly, sheets falling away to pool at her waist like dark, rippling water, revealing pert breasts and a delicately muscled torso. Running a hand through her mussed blond hair, her red-rimmed eyes flickered instinctively to the phone perched on the nightstand.

_My picture clear, everything seemed so easy_

_And so I dealt you the blow_

It was silent, like it always was. Mocking her with silence, with its mere presence.

A third tear chased its predecessors down her face, sliding over and past a prominent cheekbone that sliced against aristocratic features so arresting, they were almost cruel in its flawless beauty.

_One of us had to go_

Pam's azure gaze remained latched on the phone, slender fingers kissed by snow twitching as she resisted the urge to sink lower than she already had, to pick up that phone and dial a series of numbers so familiar, it was now etched into her muscle memory.

_Now it's different, I want you to know_

_One of us is crying_

A fourth tear fell, perfect in its teardrop shape, haunting in its dark, vermilion hue. It painted Pam's grief on her face, a physical manifestation of the festering sorrow that had taken up permanent residence inside of her wretched soul.

_One of us is lying in her lonely bed_

_Staring at the ceiling_

_Wishing she was somewhere else instead_

Pam swallowed, muscles creaking in protest as she pulled back a pale, naked arm that had begun creeping across the bed, intent on allowing its slender fingers to wrap itself around the handle of the phone's receiver.

She pressed her naked back against the headboard, pale lids closing over eyes the color of steel gray and winter blue, scattering more tears down her cheeks, displaced rubies that quavered and glistened and marked otherwise unblemished flesh.

Jewels furnished from pain.

_One of us is lonely_

_Only one of us is waiting for a call_

A sob tore out of her mouth before Pam could think to silence it, her shoulders shaking under the transport of her anguish. She quelled a second cry, swallowing it down a suddenly parched throat, her stomach knotting as she refused her emotions a verbal outlet.

She was already weak enough.

Against her will, blue eyes flickered open, glancing sideways at that silent, mocking phone, crimson tears now falling in earnest, dripping war paint down her chin and onto her naked breasts, lines of Morse code that telegraphed her carelessness, her utter stupidity.

_Sorry for herself, feeling stupid, feeling small_

_Wishing she had never left at all_

She had never excelled when it came to matters of the heart, was a pathetic, abysmal pupil at best when it came to emotions, hers or others.

She instead, thrived on the coldness that her human life had forced her to cultivate in order to survive in world cruel and unforgiving, honed that aloofness, that remote unfeeling armor into a sharpened blade when she was made vampire.

So snug and safe in her amour, she failed to realize how and when such protective barriers became her prison.

_I saw myself as a concealed attraction_

_I felt you kept me away from the heat and the action_

Pam allowed what she pretended was a resigned sigh to flit pass full, rosy lips, ignored when the sigh turned into a staccato of hitched sobs. She bit down on her lower lip to stifle the sounds, the walls of her room offering her no quarter as it echoed back to her, the notes of her anguish, the symphony of her pain.

_Just like a child, stubborn and misconceiving_

_That's how I started the show_

Body trembling under her turmoil, she drew her knees up to her chest, crushing her breasts against her thighs as she wrapped her slender arms around her legs, the gesture screaming to anyone unfortunate enough to bear witness that such as an act was engineered to keep its owner from falling apart.

_One of us had to go_

Pam was crying in earnest now, unable to keep the torrent of tears at bay, the keens that brewed and bubbled at the back of her throat, gaining potency from the churning storm that emerged from the epicenter of her battered heart.

_Now, I've changed and I want you to know_

"Tara..."

Her progeny's name burst forth from her lips without consent or cognizance and the verbal manifestation of the dark-skinned vampire's name assaulted Pam's ears like liquid silver.

She buried her face in her upright knees, smearing blood on them and across her cheeks, a macabre, abstract painting that was all pained smudges and crimson anguish.

_One of us is crying_

_One of us is lying in her lonely bed_

Muffled sobs shot across the shadow eaten room, resonating back to her by those cruel, unrelenting walls, sentinel beings that surrounded her, shielding her from the outside world but offering her no solace in her hour of grief.

More cries ripped themselves from the walls of her throat, each feeling like a silver bullet into her heart, serrated silver coated knives that flayed off a piece of her soul.

_One of us is lonely_

_One of us is only waiting for a call_

Pam cried harder as the full weight of her reality came crashing down onto shoulders too fragile and weak to carry such a heavy burden. She curled in on herself, an upright fetal position that did nothing to ease the pressure in her chest, the absolute pain in her heart.

_Sorry for herself, feeling stupid, feeling small_

_Wishing she had never left, never left at all_

There was nothing but gut-wrenching sobs now, drowning Pam in its potency, its shrill, piercing notes akin to a thousand red-hot needles against nerves that were beyond shot. The sound of her cries pressed in on her from all sides, a god awful pressure that just made her cry harder, wish harder, _pray_ harder that there was a way she could turn back time. A way to rid herself of the tools she had unknowingly yet knowingly used to carve out what was now her bleak reality.

_Staring at the ceiling_

_Wishing she was somewhere else instead_

She would give anything, anything and everything to feel Tara's arms around her, too late she realized. Too late she realized how much she came to treasure the way her progeny's arms would wind around her, tightening in a manner that was fiercely loving and unapologetically possessive. Too late she realized how safe she felt when nestled in the cage of Tara's arms, how cherished, how protected.

Crimson streaked down her thighs and down the front of her legs as Pam continued to cry, soul-shredding sobs that no one heard but herself. Her lithe frame shook violently, ravaged by the tempestuous storm that was of her own making, her body, mind and soul rebelling and retaliating under her constant abuse and dismissal of her emotions.

_One of us is crying_

_One of us is lonely_

Pam gripped at the flesh of her legs, manicured nails digging crescent grooves into the vulnerable flesh until the skin tore and blood began leeching from the self-inflicted wounds.

_Sorry for herself, feeling stupid, feeling small_

_Wishing she had never left all_

Pam cried until she didn't have it in herself to release any more heartbreaking sobs, her chest heaving unnecessarily, ragged breaths sawing erratically in and out past parted lips. Her body continued to quake and her nails continued to inflict crescent-shaped wound on her legs but her mouth had gone silent, her throat empty of its arsenal of verbal tears.

Spent, broken and wanting nothing more than to curl in on herself, Pam slipped back under the covers, uncaring of the mess she was making of those expensive silk sheets. She pulled them up until they were tucked beneath her chin, drew her knees back up to her chest beneath the covers then closed her red-rimmed eyes.

_Only one of us is lying in her lonely bed_

Pam lay still, silent as the room she was in. Sorrow marinated in the air, leaving a sickly-sweet scent that made her gut churn and her eyes sting.

Still she lay beneath the covers, her eyes closed, concealing cobalt eyes that were incandescent with grief and aglow with regret.

_Only one of us is wishing she was somewhere else instead_

Pam lay there unmoving on her expansive, sprawling bed, eyes closed to the world because if they were closed, she could almost just pretend that she wasn't alone, could almost pretend that could smell, taste that unique blend of musk, cloves and sandalwood.

Pretending was all she had left.

_One of us is crying_

_One of us is lonely_

_One of us is wishing she was somewhere else instead_

A final, lonesome tear made its descent, drawing a meandering crimson line down her face, adding its mark to the network of scarlet threads that wove over alabaster skin.

It fell off the side of her jaw, wetted the sheet beneath her cheek.

Pam let it.

**FIN**


End file.
